Chapter 16 Ryker
RYKER
Giving another man the opportunity to make your woman smile is your first mistake.
—Advice from Sebastian Beneventi to his sons
Liv
Open the door.
Ryker
Go away. We’re in bed.
Liv
Get up and get clothes on. You’re going to want to hear this.
Ryker
Good news or bad news?
Liv
Open the door and I’ll tell you.
Delaney murmurs something against my chest, her voice soft and warm against my skin. Too soft for me to hear. I tip her chin up to see her lips as they curve up, and she realizes what I’m doing. “Who are you texting?”
“Olivia,” I murmur, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “She’s at the door. She wants to talk to us.” Breathing her in, I press a kiss to the top of her head, wishing like hell we could ignore my cousin and stay right here, locked in our own damn world. Just for a little longer.
She pushes up, my jersey slipping off her shoulder again, and yeah . . . that sight alone might ruin me. But the softness in her big doe eyes is gone. Replaced by something sharper. Concern flashes back at me. “Is everything okay?”
“No matter what she says,” I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. “We’ll be fine.”
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she nods, far from convinced. “I guess we need to get dressed then.”
“I like what you’re wearing, wife.” Fuck, I like the sound of that a little more than I think I should.
She stands and faces me, that taunting smile back on her beautiful face like armor. “Four more days until you can call me that, Beneventi.”
“Whatever you say,” I tease, both of us trying to keep the energy light, knowing it could all be about to change.
I throw on a pair of sweats and a tee and let Olivia in before Delaney walks out of the room. She stares down at Tori for a beat as the pig chuffs by her feet and crinkles her nose before pushing past me into the apartment.
“Morning to you too, Liv,” I mutter moving into the kitchen to turn the coffee on. Lane might not need it, but I sure as hell do.
Olivia doesn’t bother answering. She doesn’t even look at me. Her eyes scan the apartment once, sharp and assessing. Like she’s already ten steps ahead of us, and Lane and I don’t even know what game we’re playing.
That’s when it hits me.
This isn’t good news.
Delaney steps out of the bedroom, fresh-faced and beautiful.
My jersey still hangs off her delicate frame.
She’s thrown on black leggings and thick pink socks.
And I want to throw her over my shoulder and take her right back to bed for our next lesson.
I want to hide her where nothing can ever hurt her.
Now that I have her, even just a little, I don’t want to share her with anything or anyone.
I don’t want the real world to crash in around us, and that’s what’s about to happen. I can feel it.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her eyes going between Liv and me as she walks into the kitchen and stops by my side. “Someone speak.”
Olivia takes a slow, measured breath in, her eyes edging on hard. “Roger Dennings is dead.”
Delaney throws her arms around my waist and buries her face in my chest as the room quiets.
When I first lost my hearing, I remember thinking about how much I hated silence.
It was so much worse in those early days.
It took months before any of it came back, and even longer for me to accept that the small portion that did come back was as good as it was going to get.
I remember thinking there was fear hidden in the silence.
And right now . . . that fear is back.
Roger Dennings is dead.
I killed a man.
And I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant I could save Delaney.
That might make me a monster, but I wouldn’t change a thing.
I’ll face whatever comes my way.
I’m not sure how much time passes before I look at my cousin again. “When?”
“Early this morning,” Olivia continues, calm and controlled. “It was a brain bleed.”
“I thought—” Fuck. “I thought he was doing better.”
Liv’s gaze sharpens. “He wasn’t.”
“What does this mean?” Lane asks after she pulls back, her eyes trained on me, even if her question is for Liv. She asked what I was already thinking because the answer might matter more to my life than any ever has.
“It means things just got bigger,” Liv tells us, her face tight.
Delaney laces her fingers with mine, and I pull her in closer. “How big?”
“Big enough that the DA is going to look at this differently. Big enough that the league is going to get nervous. And judging by the news van parked out front, big enough that the media is already circling.”
Of course they are.
“They’re going to come after him.” Delaney shakes with each word.
They were always going to come. Now they have their reason.
Olivia nods. “Yes. They are. We knew this could happen. We’re prepared.”
“But he didn’t start it. He was protecting me.” She’s given up on ASL, her nerves probably too fried to even realize.
“You know that, and I know that. But right now, perception matters.”
Delaney’s hand shakes in mine, and I feel it. The fear. The anger. The guilt. All of it bleeding through her fingers into mine.
“What do we do?” she asks, her voice trembling.
Not what should he do. What do we do. We.
Liv’s gaze softens. Just a fraction, but she caught the word too.
And then my cousin smiles. And goddamn, she’s fucking frightening.
“I do my job, and we control the narrative. Trust me when I tell you I’m the best at what I do, and I was raised by a fucking PR shark. This is not going to define you.” Her eyes find mine. “This is not going to destroy you. We won’t let it.”
I lift my chin, wordlessly acknowledging her.
“How?” Delaney asks with shaky hands.
“You two.” Liv motions between us, stepping closer. “You stay visible. You stay together. The rehearsal dinner and wedding are only days away. You get through that and let me do my thing on my end.”
Delaney nods, then brings her eyes to mine. “You okay?”
“I don’t regret it. Not sure what that says about me.” I push her hair away from her face and skim my thumb along her fading stitches. “I’d do it again if it meant you were safe.”
“This isn’t about protecting you anymore, Ryker. This is about survival,” Liv tells us. “For both of you.”
“If you want to back out, now’s your chance,” I offer softly, needing to give Delaney this chance one more time. “You don’t have to do this.”
A tear leaks from the corner of her eye. “Too late for that, husband.”
“Good. Because this hits the press in less than an hour.” Olivia grabs her purse from the table and spins around. “And I’ve got work to do. Call me if you hear from the Kroydon Hills PD. And for the love of God. Do not answer any questions from anyone. Got it?”
“Got it,” we agree.
And just like that, everything changes.
Olivia leaves, and I throw the deadbolt and arm the alarm before turning back to Delaney. Tears stream down her cheeks, breaking my heart. “I’m so sorry, Ryker.”
Grabbing the backs of her thighs, I lift her up and sit her on the counter, bringing us eye to eye. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Lane. Nothing. This isn’t your fault. And we knew this was a possibility.”
She shakes her head, her tears coming harder. “Maybe if I hadn’t been such a bitch to him. Or if I’d gone home with Ashton and Jamie. Or if—”
“Delaney.” I wrap a hand around her head and lean my forehead against hers. “None of this is your fault. None. Of. It.”
“I spent half my life hiding from the men my father would bring back to the house. It was like the minute I hit puberty, I was aware just how much they started looking at me differently. They’d come back after whatever they’d been doing.
Always some kind of hustle. Always something illegal.
They’d drink and smoke or snort or shoot up whatever they were selling that week.
Their eyes were always predatory. Their hands were too.
I spent more nights hiding than I ever spent feeling safe.
But it worked. More than a decade of being vigilant.
Of sleeping somewhere else. Of blocking my bedroom door.
Of learning to become invisible. And it was only after I was finally free .
. . finally let my guard down that this happened.
” Her voice breaks on a sob that vibrates around the room like it was ripped from her soul.
“Baby . . .” I’m gutted even hearing her words. The idea that this is how she had to live makes me grateful her piece of shit father is already in prison. I hope the motherfucker rots there.
She tilts her chin up and balls her fist in the front of my shirt. “And now you’re going to pay the price, Ryker. Over ten years and it all changed in a heartbeat. And now he’s dead.”
“But you’re not, Delaney.” I gently drag my thumbs under her cheeks.
“You’re here. And you’re whole. And your life is worth ten of his.
I’m so sorry that you lived through that hell.
You are the strongest woman I’ve ever known.
And you’re going to get through this. We’re going to get through this. Together.”
Her chest shakes as she tries to calm down. “Do you hate me?”
“No.” I don’t bother trying to explain to her how I feel when I’m not even sure how to make sense of it myself. “You’re marrying me, Lane. You’re going to be my wife. Going to be mine. And I swear to God I’ll protect you with my dying breath if I have to.”
All the color drains from her face. “No. Don’t do that. I don’t want that. You can’t die for me.”
I don’t argue with her. Not now. Not when I’m never going to agree. “You and me, Lane. We’re in this together, okay?”
“Together,” she murmurs, her chest shaking with the weight of her breath. “You need to talk to your parents. Tell them what happened. Don’t let them find out about this the way they found out about that night.”
She leans her head against my chest, and I hold her to me.
“Give me a minute. I just want to stay like this.”
“Ryker,” she murmurs, just above a whisper. Barely loud enough for me to hear. “I’m glad he’s dead.”
Me too, Lane.
Me too.